The Blues
by RantWaitingToHappen
Summary: Gibbs is having an awful day and takes it out on his senior field agent; Tony has a traumatic flash back concerning his childhood and things get out of hand quickly! Papa!Gibbs in later chapters, rated M for mentions and description of child abuse! R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**One**.

The new girl working at the place Gibbs liked to get his coffee every morning had spilled the scalding liquid on the front of his shirt, he'd gotten late to work as a result, the director had called him up to his office and it turned out the F.B.I was swiping another case from under their noses for the _third _time that month!

Ziva had _almost _gotten into a fist fight with one of her co-workers in the break room, and Gibbs had to take responsibility and shit from the director over his underlings' behaviour. Ziva had claimed Agent Gene had been "questioning about it" which Abby had corrected in a sing-song voice as "You mean she was asking for it?" and Gibbs just had just wanted the both of them to get out of his sight.

Then McGee, who had been working on a new program he'd been developing over the last two weeks, gave the entire office a computer virus, which only served to slow down productivity. And add yet another trip up to the Directors office for his second reprimand that day. Like Gibbs hadn't heard the phrase "Get your team under control!" once before already. He sighed.

And he'd never gotten his coffee that morning either, Gibbs suddenly realized. Hoping to turn this awful day around, he left the bullpen in search of some caffeine. Even if it was bad break room coffee.

Tony stepped foot inside the elevator, nose deep in the cold case files he'd been working on all morning, as it descended to Abbys lab, where he hoped he could convince her to take a look at some evidence for him. So preoccupied he was, that Tony didn't realize the elevator had made an early stop, as someone called for it, and, eyes still locked on the files, he headed straight out, thinking it was Abigails' lab he'd entered.

Gibbs pushed the button for the elevator impatiently, eyes glued to his steaming cup of coffee, as the elevator doors opened, and without looking, he marched straight forward and collided with one Anthony DiNozzo.

The collision was quite epic.

A flurry of papers flew across the floor, two bodies landed smack-dab on the floor, and hot scalding liquid smeared both of their shirts now.

Consequently, Gibbs snapped.

"God dammit DiNozzo! What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you look where you're going? This is my second ruined shirt today! Next time you don't watch where the hell you're walking, you're fired!" Gibbs got up, swiped at the stain, didn't bother looking at his senior field agent. "Clean this shit up." he growled, throwing the now empty cup on the floor in disgust, as he quickly bounded for the stairs instead, fists clenched tight.

Tony blinked. He was used to Gibbs' second B for bastard, but that had been more than abrupt and definitely uncalled for.

After another minute of just sitting there, in between the elevator entrance and the floor, Tony slowly got up, alarmed when he swayed upon getting to his feet. He shook his head, which only worsened the sudden onslaught of dizziness, and leaned down, collected all of his papers strewn on the floor. Once he'd gathered everything, he tucked them all back inside the yellow folder and also decided to use the stairs instead, wanting to avoid another...incident.

By the time he'd reached the fourth stair though, he wondered where it was he'd been in such a rush to go. He looked at the papers in his hands, it was a cold case, and he was supposed to be working on it, he knew that much. Turning around, Tony went back upstairs to the bullpen, deciding to sit at his desk and work on the case, maybe he'd remember what had been so important and where he'd been headed?

Gibbs was an all around certified S.O.B after that. He'd stopped Ziva and McGees' light bickering over something trivial with a very frightening threat, made a poor secretary cry, and kept shooting scathing glares at everyone who crossed paths with him.

Ziva and McGee both felt guilty. They had only managed to worsen their Bosses day with petty things, and now he was reigning down hell on every living thing that passed by the bullpen, period. Usually, when Gibbs was displaying such obvious outward aggression, Tony would step in and do or say something to catch the man off guard and make light of a situation. However, Tim noticed, Tony was being oddly quiet, at his desk, files from a cold case splayed across it, not really paying anyone any mind.

For some reason, Gibbs decided to pick on the senior field agent. "DiNozzo! Report, now!" he barked, making everyone wince.

"Cold case, murdered Jane Doe, raped, cataloging evidence now." he said very concisely, not bothering to add in his flourish into the story.

"You've been working on it all morning, DiNozzo, why are you on my team if you can't solve one measly case?" Gibbs questioned harshly, making the other two agents gape.

Tonys' head hurt, a lot, and for the past hour he'd been attempting to concentrate on the case. For his Boss to have practically thrown that in his face like that, though, that hurt a lot more. "Sorry Boss." he replied, very quietly, the pounding in his head getting more and more unbearable by the minute.

"Apologies are a sign of weakness, and I didn't ask for one, I asked why the hell I have you on my team, as senior field agent no less, if you're such a damn slacker?"

Tony wanted to die. His father had taken out his anger on him through out his entire childhood. He would stand him up in front of his large oak wood desk and point out all his flaws, and Tony would apologize, very nervously, and Senior would glare at him, tell him he hadn't asked for an apology, they were useless, like him...

Tony felt very sick suddenly, thinking about that man and comparing him to his Boss.

"Answer me DiNozzo!" He yelled, making his other two subordinates jump in their seats.

Tonys' vision blurred for a moment, his head spinning, then he felt it, coming up his throat, he quickly got to his knees next to his desk and promptly vomited every parcel of food he'd eaten since that morning, inside the small plastic garbage can.

**A.N. Originally intended to be a one-shot, but it got out of hand and will probably be a three-chapter story at most! Review 'cause every review goes to the hug-a-tony-foundation! Also, Gibbs gets nicer...eventually.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**.

If anyone thought being sick would get them off Gibbs 'Bastard' radar, they rethought this immediately, when they saw him barking at his senior field agent, not a minute after he'd been violently ill by his desk.

"If you're going to be sick, do it somewhere else, DiNozzo, I don't need you infecting the two agents, who still just barely function around here!"

Ziva and McGee winced, not only at the insult thrown at them, but by the way Gibbs was treating Tony. Gibbs had yelled at each and every one of them before-hell, he'd yelled at strangers! But it was never this bad, and the insults never dug so deep either.

Ziva couldn't take being in the sidelines anymore. Let Gibbs bite her head off. "I will take him to Ducky-" she stepped in, only to be interrupted abruptly-because Abrupt was practically Gibbs middle-fourth name.

"Like hell, I don't want either of you wasting Ducks valuable time with this none sense. Go to the bathroom and wash up. Either come back to your desk and work on that damn cold case, or go home. I don't care, just get outta' my sight."

Ziva glared at her superior, but prior training in her country had taught her better than to strike at her commanding officer, so she bit her tongue and helped Tony off the floor from his knees, and accompanies him to the mens washroom. "Are you alright? Well, clearly you are not alright. That was a dumb question to ask. I am sorry, I don't know why-"

"M'fine Zeevah," he smiled down at her. "Just something bad I ate this morning that came back up, thanks." he said, as they reached the bathroom. "I think I can take it from here."

She nodded hesitantly. "Are you quite certain? And...back in the bullpen, I am sure Gibbs did not mean what he was saying." she tried to assure him, "It has been a very straining day, and for some reason he is being more..." she struggled with the right words.

"It's okay Ziva, really." Tony walked into the bathroom and rinsed out his mouth. He still wasn't feeling a hundred percent, and his head still hurt. Maybe he was getting sick. A cold, probably. He hoped not, though. He tried to ignore the ache in his chest. Gibbs words had hurt. He hadn't even let him see Ducky; apparently a waste of time.

Tony tried to excuse the older man. He knew what today was, after all. It was the anniversary of his wife and daughters' death. All the extra stress combined was most-likely why he was on a killing spree. Still, it didn't change the way he felt currently. Not physically or emotionally. He hated remembering his father, and it was rare that something in his life right now ever made the terrible feeling of being ten and around his father again, brought up.

No one instilled fear in him like that man had. No one had ever made him feel so useless. No one had ever left such deliberate scars on him.

Tony shuddered, closed his eyes, ran a hand across his chest. Underneath his button-up shirt, a thin white line marred his chest. Who knew broken wine bottles could do so much damage to a seven year-old. After all these years the scar was still taking its' sweet time to fade. He doubted it would ever be completely gone. That was the thing about scars. They often served as reminders; whether or not you really wanted to be reminded.

Tony thought of his mother. She had always been a beauty. Even with all those bruises that littered her body underneath those lovely three thousand dollar designer gowns her husband purchased for her. She was always drunk or tipsy, on her way to becoming quite blitzed. The one thing about her, really, that always kept with Tony, was the fact that she'd take all the beatings Senior dished out, every degrading comment, every scathing glare, and never, ever, did he see her once shed a single tear. So, neither did he.

Tony had no control, and neither did his mother. The one thing they did have some control over were their own emotions, and if not crying when Senior knocked them against bookshelves or called them morons or made them feel more worthless than the ground he stood on made them feel just a little less powerless, then they'd be damned if their eyes even watered.

Wiping his face with a napkin from the dispenser, Tony took a deep breath. He was fine. Dizzy and probably starting to get a migraine, but fine.

He had to get back to that cold case.

**A.N. Sorry for the super shortness of this :/ I wanted to write more but real life is calling my name! So when I get back home I'll write more, plus update a few other fics I have pending! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING MY STORIES AND ESPECIALLY FOR THE WICKED AWESOME REVIEWS. :D *hands out the membership cards for the hug-a-tony foundation* **


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. I am miserable, and therefore Tony must be miserable as well :S But don't worry, Papa!Gibbs comes later on...Thanks for all those reviews though :) They cheer me up some. Enjoy!**

**Three**.

Gibbs glared at everyone and everything, inanimate objects included. Everyone had apparently gotten together at a secret meeting and discussed the subject in great detail: How can we piss Leroy Jethro Gibbs off? They were all succeeding. And he was hunting down every single member.

He'd told Ducky to shut up-in a more graphic way than necessary, had confiscated Abby's insufferably loud music, and almost made Palmer pee his pants.

The team had gotten a case, if you could really call it that, he thought, aggravated even further. They had to babysit the spoiled son of an ambassador, Ellis, until his flight home got to the airport. Gibbs had rolled his eyes and given babysitting duty to DiNozzo, with a sharp. "It's not like you have anything important to do." at the end of the order.

He'd piled a mountain of paperwork on Tim and Zivas desks, and gone out for another cup of coffee afterward.

When he came back, he found Tony leading the son of the ambassador around NCIS. He was surprised to see that the man was about as old as he was. He'd been expecting someone Tonys' age or younger. He noticed the two of them seemed to be getting along quite well, Ellis' arm around Tonys' shoulder, as they shared a joke. Something spurred in him, and he scowled darkly, as he came to his desk and sat.

You could tell the man had come from money almost instantly. His posture, the way he spoke, it was all very poised and dignified. All day, Gibbs watched Tony grin at this man, share stories with him, Ellis would intently listen to Tonys' animated description of amazing movies he'd seen, and for some reason all of this bothered Gibbs. A lot.

A few hours later, when Ellis' plane arrived, and his regular body guards showed up to take him to the private jet, the older man and Tony hugged good bye as if they'd known each other for years, instead of just those few hours. And again, it had bothered Gibbs. A lot.

So when Tony sat at his desk again, continuing to work on his cold case, Gibbs glared at him. "I thought I'd sent you on protection duty; didn't think it entailed all that giggling and gossiping."

Tony looked up, blinked, "Boss, we weren't-"

"Oh no, it's fine DiNozzo. Must be nice to finally have a conversation with someone who comes from as much money as you do."

Tony frowned. Why would he go there? His head throbbed again, as it had been all day, but this time it was the blood rushing in his ears that made his head ache. "Gibbs, that's not-"

"You were raised as an only child, so was he. A lot in common, I suppose. Trust fund babies living off your fathers' money, spoiled, loud, always seeking attention because apparently as kids money mattered m-"

"Fuck you." Tony shoved his chair away from his desk and ran off, tears stinging at the edges of his eyes.

Tim looked up at his boss, "You went too far. You've been going too far all damn day." and he too got up, to follow his friend, Ziva close behind, shooting a scathing glare at Gibbs. One that said 'Fix this.'

Gibbs sat there, mouth agape, very still. Fuck.

**A.N. Sorry for the shortness (again). :O**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N. Sorry for the loooong wait! Here's chapter four! Hope you all enjoy. :) **

**Four. **

Gibbs wanted to head slap himself.

Why had he said all those awful things? McGee had been right. He'd been going too far all day. They weren't gentle barbs or everyday bickering, or even necessary reprimanding. All of his blows had been aimed to kill today.

"Tony?" he stood outside of the mens' bathroom stall, winced when he heard the younger man upchuck anything he'd eaten today. The kid was sick and he hadn't even let him go see Ducky earlier. A pang of guilt resonated in Gibbs' chest. "Tony!" he knocked against the stall.

"Go away!" Tony didn't care that he sounded like a child at that moment. "You've been treating me like shit all day, leave me alone." he demanded miserably, resting his head against one arm over the porcelain bowl.

"I-I know, I want to apolo-"

"No you don't!" Tony yelled from the stall, cutting Jethro off mid-sentence. "You don't want to apologize-you're like everyone else. You just want to make yourself feel better. You _always _do this, Gibbs.

"You expect me to take all of your shit in stride. And I do. You expect me not to complain when you keep me over the weekends and let everyone else go home. And I don't.

"You expect me to be okay with you leaving for Mexico. And I was. You expect me not to make a fit about you coming back, moving all my shit from your desk without any say so. And I didn't.

"You expect me to bounce back quick from the Jean fiasco, from my car getting blown up, from the plague, from Kates' death, from-Jesus Gibbs, I did! I bounced back.

"You still go too far. Not just today. All the time. After I was kidnapped by that psycho in the sewers, I asked if you'd missed me at all, only to come back and see Tim in my desk! When Ziva and I were trapped in the truck, being shot at, I find out I wasn't invited to a dinner you'd all gone to, knowing I was the odd one out, mocked me about it afterward, too... I'm chained to a sociopath with a tendency to decapitate his victims, neck nearly sliced open, and all the words of comfort you can offer come out as some sick barb at my expense? 'I can see that'?" Tony shook his head, trembling with anger.

"I do every single God damn thing you ask of me. But I can't anymore, Gibbs." Tony was shocked to feel tears running down his face, and leaned back against the stall, his voice breaking. "I _can't_."

From the other side of the stall Gibbs stood speechless. The only sound in the room was Tonys harsh breathing.

After a pregnant pause, Gibbs spoke again, softly. "Tony, I...I'm so sorr-"

The stall swung open abruptly and Tony pushed passed Gibbs and out the mens room door.

Gibbs caught him by the shoulder. "Tony, please, I'm sorry!"

"Save it!" Tony wrenched his shoulder from under his Boss' grip, and continued to march down the hall, Gibbs at his heels.

"Tony!"

He stopped, turned around, yelled, "Leave me _alone_!" and felt the world tilt precariously at that moment, and before Tony could steady himself, his knees buckled and as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, just before his consciousness left him, he felt a pair of strong arms holding him up.

"Tony! Tony, what's wrong?"

And then everything went black.

**A.N. I keep dishing out REALLY short chapters for this and I apologize severely. :/ I promise I'll try my best to make the next one super long and awesome for you guys! Please review, I'll actually start responding to reviews instead of gushing about all your wonderful feedback and comments and criticize in my head ;D **


	5. Chapter 5

**Five. **

"He has a skull fracture—a closed skull fracture, to be specific, meaning there is not an accompanying wound to the skin, so it's only normal that he wouldn't have realized the seriousness of his injury. At most, he probably thought it was a bad migraine due to the lack of blood." The doctor explained to the odd-looking group of people waiting on her patient. "My guess would be a severe blow to the head caused this fracture. There isn't any internal bleeding, we took CAT scans, all we can do now is wait on him to regain consciousness and keep him medicated for the pain. There isn't much we can do for a closed skull fracture except wait to see if there's any permanent brain damage—although it's not a high possibility, seeing as how you two," she pointed to Ziva and McGee, "said that he wasn't acting very out of character before he was brought into the ER."

The doctor went onto explain that Tonys' room would be set up shortly and one of the nurses would inform them where to go if they wanted to see their co-worker. As Dr. O'Hara strode off to see to her other patients, she looked back subtlety at the strange lot in the waiting room. The one who stood out almost blatantly was the tall Goth dressed completely in black. She had pig-tails and a catholic schoolgirl skirt, a 'The Rocky and Horror Picture Show' t-shirt on, under a contradicting starch ivory lab coat. The Goths' ink black combat boots with tiny skull charms sewed on, were just the thing to complete this eccentric attire—an attire which Dr. O'Hara couldn't seem to get over. Besides standing out the most out of the bunch, the Goth was the most openly hysterical over her patient. The dark mascara she'd painted on that morning was running down her face, a clear sign she'd been crying on the way to the hospital.

There was the peculiar, short, elderly man, also sporting a white lab coat, with a unique accent, and a neat little red bow tie; Dr. O'Hara could tell he was the major mother-hen in the group, trying to assure everyone that her patients' prognosis was good, that all would be well. But she could easily spot the worry lines on the older mans' brow.

A timid but all the same worried man in his early thirties, the doctor guessed, paced the small corridor—like the Goth, the blonde couldn't hide his angst nearly as well as the others. Although Dr. O'Hara was pretty sure her patient was at least a couple of years younger than the man pacing back and forth, she couldn't help but think he resembled a younger brother, anxious and concerned over the condition of his big bro. Dr. O'Hara shook her head; maybe she was looking too into the whole thing?

The NCIS group drew her attention, however. Stock still, in a most eerie fashion, stood a woman—perhaps Arabic?—the doctor guessed, her arms crossed over her chest, fists tucked into her underarms. Anger was radiating off of her in violent waves, that much was obvious. She had on an NCIS cap, and its' shadow loomed over her face; the only visible thing was her mouth, which was marred into an awful grimace. Dr. O'Hara shuddered. She'd hate to be on this womans' bad side…

Last, she spotted another silent member of the group. By the haircut, right off the bat, she deduced he was probably in the army, although she couldn't pinpoint any branches, exactly. He was an attractive man, with a good build for anyone his age. Unlike his counterpart leaning up against the wall, though, he didn't appear to be upset. He had the look of someone guilty for murder, in fact. Dr. O'Hara was in the midst of wondering just what that was all about, when her pager beeped and she rolled her eyes, "Right, doctor, not detective." She nodded to herself and quickly sprinted to where her interns needed her to be.

A young nurse in light purple scrubs led Gibbs' people to Tonys' room. "He should be waking up soon—it's often hard to tell with head injuries, however, so don't be alarmed if he sleeps through the night." He informed the team as he pointed out which room it was. "Usually only two at a time are allowed in, but seeing as Agent DiNozzo has the room all to himself, as long as you're all quiet, there's no reason for you all not to go in and see him."

"How the heck did this happen?" Abby inquired. "We haven't had an active case all day!" she played with Tonys' hair very carefully; her butt sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

Ziva grimaced. "He was feeling sick earlier today; he upchucked in the trash can by his desk in the bullpen."

"Oh my!" Ducky exclaimed. "Well why on Earth wasn't I informed?" he took on the role of a chastising parent with ease, and examined the faces of the three members of Gibbs team until he found a guilty one in the bunch. Zivas' jaw set, and her tense body language indicated how beyond pissed she was, Timothys' timid posture, the way he kept glancing back and forth between Ducky and Tonys' prone body meant he could have been the poster boy for innocent bystander, and Gibbs—he looked absolutely stricken.

"Apparently, it was "a waste of time"; his words, not mine." Ziva gestured towards her Boss.

"Jethro?" Ducky inquired surprise evident on his face.

"He and I knocked into each other at the elevator and he must've hit his head when he fell." Jethro was too shamed to tell any of the team that he hadn't bothered checking to see if DiNozzo had been okay and had even had the audacity to blame him for something that had clearly been an accident on both their parts. "When he got sick at the bull pen I didn't really think much of it—"

"You have been picking on Tony, who has not done a thing to anger you, all day!" Ziva blew up, and if looks could kill, Leroy Jethro Gibbs would have been dead in the waiting room five minutes ago. "Of course you did not think much of it when Tony started up chucking at his desk after you were done threatening to fire him—I do not believe you were _thinking_ at all!" With that, the mossad agent got up from her plastic chair next to Tonys' hospital bed and stormed out of the room, fists clenched tightly at her sides.

"Bossman," Abby gawked, wide-eyed lamb-look a permanent fixture on her face. "Why would you do that to Tony?"

In the hospital bed Tony began to toss and turn and all attention was drawn to the senior field agent.

"Tony?"

"_Junior!" _

_Tony started, huddled into a crook between the stairs and the wall like some frightened small thing. It didn't matter how well he hid though, the man always found him. He could hear the echoes of his footsteps, smell the liquor on his breath—he was close. _

_The six year old couldn't think of anything he might have done today that might earn him a beating. He'd been on his best behavior, quiet and polite, even when they didn't have guests over, he'd even stopped socializing with the help—his father thought it was uncouth. _

"_Junior!" _

_Tony winced involuntarily. That mans' voice alone could strike fear into his very soul. _

"_Tony!" _

"_Gibbs…" the child uttered softly. That was definitely Gibbs' voice! Scrambling out of his hiding place with haste, Tony ran to find his boss—surely Gibbs would protect him from—_

"_Something wrong with your hearing DiNozzo?" The older man seemed to appear out of thin air. _

"_Boss!" the six year old could have cried, he was so elated to see Gibbs._

"_I asked you a question, DiNozzo." There was a dark edge to Gibbs' voice that Tony only ever heard him use with suspects. _

_The child grew despondent, standing rigidly, head down. "S-sorry Boss." He stuttered. _

_His shadow besieged Tonys' small frame almost entirely. "I didn't ask for an apology, Junior!" Tonys' eyes widened, and he lifted his head up in time to see his fathers' malevolent face, right before his hand came crashing down on the right side of his face. The impact was brutal and hard enough that the six year old stumbled back a good couple of steps. Blood was flowing freely from his mouth and nose and his cheek stung fiercely. _

_Where was Gibbs? Why had his Boss turned into this monster? This monster that took so much pleasure in deliberately tormenting him everyday… _

_His father lifted him up by the collar of his shirt, slammed his against the wall and kicked him while he was down. _

_Gibbs appeared again, and through a haze of violent kicks and ridiculing taunts, Tony saw a ray of hope. "Boss…" but his voice was drowned out in the outbursts of his father and it hurt to speak. He tried reaching out for Gibbs. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why was he just watching? Unless—did he think Tony had done something to deserve this? _

_Gibbs! He tried to yell, but it was no use, his voice wouldn't cooperate with him and Gibbs just stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the child with merciless eyes while Anthony DiNozzo Senior beat the living hell out of him. _

_It was humiliating, having his boss watch him in such a desperate state, and worse even, terrifying to have Gibbs there, so close, within reach, not lifting a single finger to help him._

"I do believe he's rousing awake."

"Tony?" McGees' hand brushed against the senior field agents' as he stirred.

Startled, wide, ivy green eyes stared up at the group of people standing above him.

Abby leaned over the railing of the bed, and everyone was surprised to hear the frightened little yelp Tony let out as she neared. Upon further inspection, the team could see that he looked absolutely stricken with terror.

"Anthony, dear…" Ducky trailed off, when it was evident that any contribution made would only have ill effects on the already panicky young man, as he sunk further and further into the cushion of the hospital bed, in a futile attempt to get away from them. He tried again, stepping back and gesturing for Timothy and Abigail to give him some space as well. "Anthony, what is the matter?" he inquired, worry seeping in his tone.

Tony looked a little apathetic towards the doctor and ignored the question, gazing about the room slowly, frowning slightly, his brow creasing. "Gibbs," he managed to croak out, "Where's Gibbs?"

Jethro hadn't exactly tried to stay out of sight, and couldn't even if he'd tried, in the cramped, crowded room, and was mildly shocked to think Tony had skimmed over him in the first place. "I'm right here Tony." He stepped forward, albeit reluctantly.

The brunette hesitantly reached out for the older man, and Jethro felt his heart thud painfully in his chest for a moment, but couldn't jot down the specific emotion. He stumbled forward and Tonys' lithe fingers carefully traced the ridges and lines on Gibbs' face, never making full solid contact, simply dim, feather light touches.

Abby, Ducky, and McGee all felt as if they were intruding in on some delicate, private moment meant for their eyes alone, and awkwardly looked away, shuffling some feet back.

"Gibbs…" Tony uttered again, so softly that the three other members of team Gibbs nearly didn't catch his next words. "Who are you?"

**A.N. I have excuses as to the ridiculously long interval between updates but no one wants to hear a teen blab on about her angsty life, so I will just apologize severely right now and thank you all soooo much for being patient with me! I've finally got some free time now so I'm trying to dish out a chapter for all my fics tonight and then some, hopefully! BTW, I'll try not to leave this one of those melodramatic cliff hangers and update this story again later tonight (as I am clearly super behind...)! **


End file.
